


Serenades

by MarcoFro5



Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Genre: Action/Adventure, Implied Sexual Content, Original Character(s), Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:00:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24167737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarcoFro5/pseuds/MarcoFro5
Summary: Adrian Walker is a recent college graduate who believes if you shoot for the moon and miss, you won't land among the stars. You'll just fall back down to Earth. Hard.
Kudos: 8





	1. Kindle 1

My hand stung, palm burning a bit, but knuckles more or less okay. The other guy wasn’t, his body slumped against the side of a table on the other side of the club. I wrung my hand, pumping as much bravado into the motion as I could by rolling my shoulders. 

He couldn’t have been much older than I was if he was out partying before graduation tomorrow, but he had a good 20 extra pounds of muscle that made launching him a little harder than most. 

For a bouncer, I admittedly didn’t look the part. Days that could have been spent making my traps look like mountains were spent running laps instead. Instead, I’d built myself for speed and stumbled into a job where I spent most nights just standing around. 

Half of the job was appearances though. Standing tall and looking tough. Talking the talk, without having to actually walk the walk. Most people wouldn’t fight someone they knew they couldn’t beat and although I didn’t have the muscles or height to really scare people away, the costume and mask helped.

“Fucking capes,” the guy groaned. “Not man enough to-”

“You done?” I asked, cutting him off before he could launch into some tirade about club fight etiquette.

The guy had a fratty look to him, and that was reinforced by his buddies rushing to his side. Each wore the same style of polo shirts with arm sleeves that clung so tight to biceps they threatened to snap the arm in two.

“Fuck you,” he answered.

I pointed to the front of the club and they hesitated before finally moving. The crowd that had formed around the scene had made a funnel of sorts, with me in the center so that the frat bros were forced to walk past me to leave. 

The dark tint of my mask’s goggles hid my eyes as I tracked the dude getting near. Alcohol gave idiots courage while sapping away their common sense and I expected another shout or a sucker punch as he limped by.

He saved himself the embarrassment and didn’t try anything. The crowd dispersed once the idiots left the building. Then like nothing had even happened, the club carried on with its night, music picking back up and the bartenders becoming the centers of attention once more. 

I walked over to the group of girls that the hothead had gotten a little too handsy with on the dance floor. They were huddled around their table, forming a perimeter around a petite girl in a floral romper at the center. All attention was on the girl’s phone until I approached and she pulled it close to her chest. 

“Everything okay?” I asked. 

“Yeah, thanks for that by the way,” she said, tucking wavy brown hair back behind her ear. 

“Just doing my job. Mind showing me whatever you’ve got there?”

I pointed at her chest and realized what I had just said, fighting back the urge to stutter out an explanation. Thankfully she understood, holding her phone out for me to see. It was a video of me sending the guy flying through the air and skidding across the floor. The camera turned to show her and her friends’ reactions before the guy hit the table. I could make out an “oh shit” from the girl’s lips as the camera flipped around to her view. The video started over in a loop, already loaded up on her FireFite account.

“Sorry, if you want me to delete it...” she trailed off.

I frowned a little at how the lights in the club made me look a little more gray and pink in the video than the black and red I was going for.

“Nah, it’s fine.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Actually, do you mind sending it to me?”

My costume was skintight but had a few zippered pockets for the essentials. I fished out my phone from the one on my thigh and saw a message from Samantha asking about our plans tonight. I swiped the notification away before going to my contacts and handing the phone over to her. The girls beside her laughed between themselves a little as she handed the phone back, “Zoey” written at the top of the screen. 

I texted her my name, she sent the video, and the silent exchange came to a close. 

“‘Preciate it,” I said, never really good at disengaging with this stuff. 

My mask was in a blindfold style, a wide band of red cloth covering the top half of my face with eye holes cut out and replaced with dark lenses. It was tied into a tight knot at the back of my head, leaving my hair and mouth exposed. I flashed Zoey a smile and a lazy salute. 

“Gonna get back to work,” I said. “Look out for each other, alright?”

There was murmured agreement between the girls and I made my leave back to the front of the club, a line starting to form to get in. 

“Thanks again, uh,” the romper girl paused as she shouted to me and I frowned a little. “Starsender!”

I threw a hand up to let her know I heard her and carried on. That pause was going to haunt me for the rest of the night, which was stupid. Tonight was good, I was able to flex the power muscles a bit and there was even video for me to look over. 

Still, I could imagine her looking down at the phone, rereading my name to make sure she got it right. She didn’t seem that drunk, not that out of it to the point where letters on a screen jumbled themselves around. 

The night slowed, the line to get in shortened, and I headed to the bathroom. After making sure no one was doing blow or blowing each other, I pulled out my phones in one of the stalls. My civilian phone was more popular it seemed, a string of texts from my mom about the hotel they were staying at accounting for most of the messages. Nothing urgent. I checked my cape phone. 

Another message from Samantha asking if we were still good for tonight after work. It was already one in the morning and I felt bad about keeping her up so late when we both had to be up early tomorrow. Still, I could use the company. 

I sent her a thumbs up and moved to my phone’s notes, crossing out Starsender from a list of names. It joined the likes of Eclipse, Meteoric, Apollo, and a dozen others that didn’t make the cut over the past few months. 

A good name was everything. It set the stage for your identity before you even took to the streets and was the first thing sorted out by PRT departments or sponsored teams. A name had to be memorable from the moment it was heard. 

Zoey’s pause had been damning and I searched through the list of names on my phone to find the next one to trial.

Legend was the prime example my cape relations professor had used. It was impossible for me to be as recognizable as the freaking Triumvirate but the same lessons held true. Animals were overused. Verbs made press releases and news articles difficult to read. 

I crossed Propel, Harrier, and Seek from the list. 

Deities and Gods were too pretentious. Farewell was probably too ominous. 

It took a minute before I found a diamond in the rough. Hopefully a diamond, at least. Striver.


	2. Kindle 2

“No,” John said, voice gruff compared to the pop song playing. 

“Come on, the night’s already over,” I said, pointing at the half empty club below us from the VIP floor. “Send me home early, save the 70 or so bucks you don’t have to pay for a bouncer you don’t need. It’s a win-win.”

“Starsender, I-“

“It’s Striver now, actually.”

“I don’t care what it is, I need you out front and not up here.”

John was a small man, the kind of small where he was more intimidating than if he were tall. You could practically see the chip on his leather-jacket-clad shoulder as he stood, arms crossed and face stern. The strobe lights were a bit brighter up here on the second floor and it was almost comical watching someone so serious glow in neon colors. Almost. 

“You’ve got Skinny Steve and Jerome for the rest of the night. They have this handled, you don’t need me.”

“You’re my only cape. Hell, you’re the only cape at any club downtown. I brought you on board because-“

“Because of Samantha.”

“Don’t interrupt me. I brought you on because you’re eye catching. Drunks walk by, they see a cape outside and they think we’re a bit more special.”

“So, I’m just your big inflatable flailing arm guy?”

“In a way.”

“Inspiring,” I said, rolling my eyes behind my mask.

“You’re not here to be inspired, you’re here to work.”

He turned around to leave, dismissing me. I thought about telling him where I was headed tonight, just to see the steam fume out of his ears. 

“A compromise maybe then?”

He stopped, seemed to mull it over a bit, and walked back with his arms somehow even more crossed. 

“Your daughter’s birthday is next week right? Not Samantha’s, but the littler one’s.”

“Ava.”

“Ava, right. Sorry,” I said. “I could work the party for you, do some power tricks, entertain, that kind of thing.”

“Hm. We were going to go with a magician.”

“Fuck magicians,” I said with maybe a little too much conviction. John smiled.

“Fuck magicians, indeed. The *Fantastic Phantasmo* wanted $300.”

“I can do it for free,” I blurted out, regretting it as soon as I said it. More because of the desperation in my voice than a need for cash. 

“Really?”

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll snag some little hot dogs and cake, but overall it will be great exposure.”

I threw up a little in my mouth saying that word, as if it was a legitimate form of currency. John ate it up though, nodding his head.

“Have you done this thing before? 

“Dozens of times,” I lied. 

John looked up at me, his wrinkled face studying me. The pop song trailed off and there was an awkward silence before the next one played. I almost thought he planned it, but he was far from the dramatic type.

“Fine, but you’re staying in costume for the whole event,” he said, unfolding his arms and reaching into his jacket.

“Absolutely,” I said, trying not to sound as excited as I felt. Victories with John were few and far between, not that this could be counted as a win considering I’d have to come up with some birthday party routine. With school over, I’d have plenty of time, but still.

John handed me a stack of bills, tipping me out for the night before turning around to leave.

“Thanks again,” I shouted over the music. He gave me a dismissal wave, still walking back towards his office.

I took the stairs down two at a time, and bid farewell to Kat at the bar before stepping outside. 

Living near the beach had many perks, but none were better than the salty breeze that whipped between buildings and made being outside feel like paradise. I had gotten a few tastes of it throughout the night when posted up outside but now I could actually feel that freedom.

This was probably the only part of St. Pete still awake, I thought. There were other sections of the Milk District that were likely open this time of night to cater to the college kids, but Camino Plaza was the best place to have fun. The only place, really. 

The university was a literal stone’s throw away from here, the old dairy factory the only obstacle between where I stood and my bed. It made the commute to Longitude easy, but it made the temptation for late night snacks a hell of a lot harder to fight. 

I did a quick survey to see if I could get a quick bite to eat before heading to Samantha across town and it looked like the food trucks had already gone home. O’Malley’s Pub and Dead Bird were open but I was too short on time for a sit-down place. Other clubs, a strip joint, and a pretty fire 24-hour cookie shop filled in the gaps between closed stores and dark alleys. 

I checked my cape phone, and messaged Samantha to let her know I was on my way and if she wanted anything. I got a grocery list in return, no delay in response. She was probably already there, feet up, beer in hand, lazing around. My heart sped up a little bit picturing her and now was a good time to get moving. 

I moved to the middle of the street, getting out from under the awnings and giving myself a wide berth to launch. I skipped in place, hopping from one foot to the other and shaking my shoulders. Limbering up before flight. 

Each bounce came with a little jolt of energy and warmth and that heat rose up and through the muscles in my legs. It felt good, like the burning in the calves after a run or sprinting up stairs. 

With every hop, I got a little more height and there was a sound like a match being struck each time my shoes pushed off the asphalt. Deep breath. 

Like a rocket, I shot into the sky, leaving a burst of hot air back on the ground. In less than a second I was arcing over buildings but the feeling was like a drop on a rollercoaster. Emissions of heat shot out of my feet as I soared, a roar getting louder and louder the higher I reached. 

To call this flight would be like saying a torpedo swam. I was like a bullet and the ground was the gun, shooting me up and away from it. There was no steering or turning at this speed, just ascent. I slowed down as I got up higher and my vision stopped blurring, letting me get a good look out at the landscape. 

It was dark enough that I struggled to make out the land from the ocean as I got closer to the beach. About half a mile above land, I hit the peak of my arc and felt gravity take hold. I exhaled. 

The only thing that kept me from plummeting was the small fire underneath my feet, carefully fed so that I hovered here. I stoked it in small bursts until I got a better feel for how it burned. Giving it too much would send me rocketing off again while too little would shut it off completely and put me on a one-way trip to the ground. 

Breathing helped with the maintenance as I oriented myself, the air a little thin and throwing me off. Lateral movement was difficult, but not impossible. I leaned my whole body forward until the propulsion sent me forward a little bit faster than I wanted. 

I starved the fire, slowing down, before feeding it a bit more. It was annoying, considering just how easy other fliers seemed to have it. I edged toward the beach, getting lower and lower without outright dropping. I could make out more of the shoreline as I neared it, the motion of waves spilling onto sand helping me figure out where I was. 

Streets came into view, and I picked out a destination not too far from the park and descended. I kicked out as I fell, giving small bursts of fire and waiting before doing it again. Kick forward, free fall, kick forward, free fall, until I had a nice rhythm going and was level with rooftops. 

I landed like an airplane did, first touch with the ground sending me back up **.** Same with the second, less so with the third, and then not at all on the fourth. After a little jogto kill my momentum, I stretched again and the warmth in my legs died down. 

The parking lot to the convenience store was empty other than a guy filling up gas. Probably not a great idea to bring this much heat to a gas station in hindsight. 

I stepped inside, the ding of the door alerting the middle-aged cashier of my presence. He greeted me with a glare, beady eyes fixated on me and me alone. 

Was it a cape thing, I thought, aware that my mask didn’t hide most of my face. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, giving him a small wave and a smile. He returned neither. 

Alright. 

I grabbed a basket and made my way around the store, the guy’s gaze switching from me to his little tv at the register. I went to the back near the alcohol first, just to fuck with him a little bit.

It was still hard to believe Samantha was an IPA brat, but I grabbed her a six pack and some hard soda growlers for myself. Pretzels with peanut butter inside, barbecue chips, toothpaste, two Alexandrians, and… ice cream was left on her list but she didn’t specify what kind. 

In the ice cream section, keeping the open in indecision and because the cool air that rushed out felt really good after that flight. There was a much wider variety of Ben’s Ice Cream than I expected. Most were flavored and branded after a cape, but this store had a lot for a run of the mill gas station in a city with no PRT department. 

Maybe there was a variety because they couldn’t really push any hometown heroes? That wouldn’t really explain why there were no cape brand drinks other than Legendary Burst energy shots. I didn’t get too good of a look there though, considering the beverages I checked out were alcoholic and the PRT rarely touched that market outside of some Texas brewery deals. They had Alexandrians, but every place had Alexandrians.

*Focus*, ice cream. I grabbed a pint of Torrential Truffle, hoping the promised waves of caramel actually delivered. 

I closed the freezer door and in the foggy reflection were two guys in all black. The cashier had his hands raised and was backed away while one of the intruders worked through the register. The other turned my way, gun in hand.    
  



	3. Kindle 3

I ducked down, cutting off line of sight and immediately regretting it. It took nothing for the gunman to come around the corner and start shooting. Unlikely, sure. But still nothing stopping him. 

“Hey! Asshole, I saw you,” the gun _ woman,  _ apparently _ , _ shouted. 

“You sure? Those ski masks look pretty thick,” I said.

I edged around to the end of the aisle, trying to peek through freezer door reflections to get some indication on if she was moving.

“Shut up and come out with your hands up!”

She sounded about the same distance away, thankfully.

“That just causes a lot more trouble for the both of us don’t you think?” I said. “We see each other, you have to manage a hostage, I get more details on you to relay to the cops, it’s a mess.”

There was silence on the other end and that had its own problems. I could imagine the two plotting, figuring out who would flank. 

“Just take the money, I’m not gonna stop you. Like I said, those masks look thick and I couldn’t make anything out. You get the money, I get to go home, it’s a win-win.”

“You got money? Toss it over here and we’ll leave.”

“Don’t be greedy,” I said. 

“And don’t be stupid. There are four of us and we’re all packing,” a male voice called out from the other side of the store. 

Great, now they think they’re damn Bonnie and Clyde. Three aisles separated my corner from the far side of the store the voice seemed to be coming from. I was shielded from the woman but I was in clear view of the guy if he turned the corner on my right. I searched through my basket. 

“I’ve got nothing on me that’d you want,” I said. Beer bottles were too fragile, the chips lacked weight. “Just a credit card I’d cancel. There’s an annual pass to Jungle City. You like seafood? There’s some Davy Jones gift cards that you-“

“Shut. Up.”

The woman’s voice that time. Same place as before, which was good. Constants were good. I settled on the pint of ice cream in my basket, wiping off some of the frost from the side. 

The unknowns were dangerous, I thought, trying to remember how tall the other guy was from the fleeting view I had of him earlier. 

“Your loss,” I said.

With my right hand, I rubbed my index finger and thumb together, sparks and cinders falling to the floor. 

“You’re not the only ones with some firepower,” I said to myself, cringing hard and thankful they didn’t hear it

I forged the blade in my hand, a three-dimensional, diamond-shaped weapon that had one point drawn out like an arrowhead. A kunai, according to those geeks online. Despite the awkward shape and lack of a handle, it fit my palm perfectly and I turned it over a few times. The blade sizzled in my hand and the bright yellow cooled into orange before finally settling into a deep red.

I turned it over and over a few more times, more cinders hitting tile as I got a feel for it in my hand. It was always the same shape but it had been a few hours since I had one in my hands.

“Last chance,” I said at the same time the woman yelled something out. Awkward, to say the least, with neither of us apparently understanding the other. Oh well.

I stabbed the pint of ice cream, blade effortlessly sliding into Torrent’s midsection on the carton and poking out the other side. Ice cream and chocolate leaked out of the pint and I shuffled to the side so my body wasn’t behind it.

The guy should be coming around the corner any second now. The blade kicked to life, crackling, and I let go of it to hold the carton instead. It rumbled, the lid threatening to pop off and the holes widening. Fire shot out of the back of the blade, sparks flying and heat washing over my shoulder where the fire threatened to burn me. 

Angling was difficult, but I managed to keep the carton down low and aimed towards the window. The fire was stronger now but my focus was elsewhere. The two probably heard the noise at this point, sounds like a dulled firecracker filling the store. I held on, the pint threatening to explode in my hands. 

“Come on,” I whispered. “Where you at?”

A black boot stepped past the far aisle and I released the carton. It shot forward like a rocket towards him, getting there in less than a second and crashing into the guy’s shin as more of him stepped into view. He fell forward into the freezer doors and the ice cream burst, covering him and the tile he stood on.

The woman shouted something. Or maybe just cursed, I don’t know. My attention was moreso on the guy trying to get to his feet and slipping. I stood up, careful to keep my head down in case Bonnie was as trigger-happy as she sounded. I made a new blade in each hand and flung them forward, one finding purchase in his thigh.

The other missed and clinked off the window pane instead of going through the glass and outside near the gas pumps. Okay, so that’s the second time in about ten minutes that I nearly blew up a city block. I should probably lay off, especially considering the first blade was still spinning around in the ice cream puddle and spurting out sparks.

He found his footing right when the blade in his leg ignited and it was enough to make him slip again. There was a panic in his eyes as he desperately groped around for his leg to pull it out, probably thinking it’d tear right through if he didn’t. 

He wasn’t reaching for anything in his pockets; the only weapon he was making an effort to grab was the very loud, very much on fire one lodged in his leg. I kind of felt bad watching it spin and dig into his leg while he tried to avoid the bundle of flames. 

I heard the woman running down that far aisle and I stood up to meet her, blade in hand. I had drawn first but hesitated with her so close to the window. Still, she froze and that was enough. Unknowns were dangerous and she seemed to get that, her eyes wide and darting between my glowing kunai and the flaming exhaust coming out of her buddy. 

“Let me help him,” she said.

“He’s fine,” I said. “Your gun, is it real or are you fronting?”

“Only one way to find that out, big guy,” she said.

“I can think of a few ways,” I said, stepping forward. She jumped. Good, fuck that swagger she was building. 

“So can I,” a feminine voice near the front of the store said. 

I didn’t need to look to know who it was. 

“Looks like quite the stand-off you have here, Striver,” she said, getting closer. My eyes didn’t leave Wannabe Bonnie. I felt her before I saw her in my periphery, a literal chill running through me. 

“Mind if I join in?” Wintermint said, standing in the aisle between the two of us.


	4. Kindle 4

Crime in St. Pete was far from rare, but it wasn’t anything the police couldn’t handle. Or at least nothing serious enough happened that a cape presence was really needed to sort things out. Capes tended to set up shop in Tampa more often than not and any that wanted to play as big fish in a little pond were usually dealt with by a Tampa PRT Department hero making a short trip into town.

At least, that was the case before Wintermint showed up a few years back. I didn’t have all the details, but she had taken down some pervert calling themselves the Gecko King and made a name for herself. After that, she busted up a truly pitiful attempt at a cocaine ring at the university and patrolled at night. Villains came and went and the heroes from Tampa came less and less often with her looking after things.

There were only a handful of capes in the whole city and two were spending Friday night at a gas station. Was she really this bored? 

“I see you’ve made some friends since the last time we met,” she said.

“Not friends,” I said, unable to come up with anything too witty.

My palm started to burn a bit from holding the blade so long. I turned it over a few times and it sizzled, begging to be thrown. The fire in the crook’s leg was winding down but was still pretty loud back here in the corner.

“So this isn’t some infighting between thieves?”

I turned to look at her for the first time, more than a little shocked at the implication. She had changed her hair since the last time we ran into each other, sporting a neat updo of braids and twists that reminded me of a bride on her wedding day. In various places, icicles stabbed and pierced to keep the golden strands in line and it all rested behind a tiara of ice that shimmered under the artificial light.

Her mask had a similar design as the headpiece, with icicles dripping from the eyes down her cheeks and sticking to them like frozen tears. A bit much, in my opinion, but it worked for the whole ice queen schtick she was going for. Her costume looked like a hassle to get in and out of though, rigged up so tight it was like she used a vacuum seal. The powder blue jumpsuit ran from shoulder to ankle, with white snow and snowflakes strategically placed on the torso and down the sides and waist to blur spots where the tightness would become indecent.

She held a rapier made of ice in her right hand and extended it, waving it between me and the crook.

“No, they were-,”

“Yes,” Bonnie said, cutting me off. “He brought us along and then when we got the money he shot my friend and was going to do the same to me.”

What the hell is happening? 

“Interesting,” Wintermint said, pointing the rapier at me and smirking. “I thought you were done with the whole petty crime nonsense.

“Look, I don’t know who these schmucks are,” I said. “They barged in, guns blazing, and Lil Miss Manipulator here thinks she’s some crime genius. You can ask the old dude what happened.”

I gave a look toward the register and saw him hiding behind the case of lottery tickets.

“Funny, the alert I got was about a threatening unknown parahuman stalking around.”

“Unknown?!” I shouted to the cashier. “Really, dude? I expected threatening, but unknown?”

“Calm yourself,” Wintermint said with unbearable levels of smugness. A little jab to when I had told her to calm down in the past. She was right, telling someone to calm down had the absolute opposite effect. She turned to Bonnie and walked closer. “I believe you sweetie. You wouldn’t believe the kind of things this heathen has done before.”

“Thank you, I’m so sorry that we caused all this trouble for you. My brother and I fell on hard times and-”

Wintermint twisted her body sharply and the blunt, thick end of her rapier struck the woman across her jaw.

“Jesus christ, Mint, did you kill her?” I asked peeking over the aisles to try and see the damage. 

I made my way around to that side of the store, harmlessly dropping the blade to the floor and wringing my hot hand.

“Was tired of hearing her voice,” Wintermint said. 

I saw the guy slumped into the corner, blade spewing sparks. Thank god he didn’t succeed in pulling it out. I really didn’t feel like flying him to a hospital and Mint would be a nightmare to deal with. 

The blade burned up, evaporating into ashes and smoke and cauterizing the wound. He’d have a scar, but nothing too serious. For now. Wintermint had her pole under his chin, lifting it up so he looked up at her. 

The girl was out cold, I thought, storing it into my pun bank for later. How had I not thought of that one before? Mint asked him some questions and his answers came out with shivers. 

She was in her element here, and not just because we were next to the freezers. Wintermint was intimidating in a way that made you feel like she wasn’t just better than you, but that she would *always* be better than you. 

Even here in a grimy gas station standing in a puddle of chocolate and ice cream she looked regal with posture perfect enough it made me stand a little straighter

Light blue earrings hung from each lobe and I caught myself smiling as she talked, her breath visible as she questioned the guy. I turned and made my way over to the ice cream section again, contemplating if I should grab more Torrential Truffle or if it was a curse. 

“Hey, Ice Princess,” I called out, interrupting her from the little interrogation.

“What?”

“Do you have a favorite ice cream? Trying to pick some out for a friend”

She rolled her eyes and continued with the guy.

“Gotcha, so Cinereal S’more sounds ni-“

“No!” Wintermint shouted, clearing her throat and collecting herself. “I mean, Blitzing Berry. That would be a choice everyone likes.”

I smiled and searched for Hightail’s trademark blue tracksuit among the caped containers. Bottom shelf, yikes. Work must be drying up in Jacksonville. I grabbed it and headed to the front of the store.

I fished into a pocket for a couple of twenties, purposefully crumpled them, and tossed them on the counter. The cashier worked on unfolding them, mumbling something under his breath that I really didn’t feel like deciphering.

“Sorry for the trouble tonight, keep the change,’ I said, injecting as much sarcasm as possible as I walked to the door.

“And where do you think you’re going?” Wintermint asked, still standing over the crooks. “I’ll need a written statement and possibly a trip down to the station for questioning on your involvement.”

“By station, do you mean the counter space in the break room the cops let you use? Lovely offer but been there, smelled that, no thanks”

“It wasn’t a request, Striver.”

I opened the door.

“You want my statement, here it is. Somewhat offensive shop owner sees me, Tweedle-dee and Tweedle-idiot over there thought they were hot shit because they spent their allowance on a pistol, a holier than thou Ice Princess cleaned up a spill, and I left. That about sum it up?”

“You left out the part where you stabbed someone.”

“You got over it after we first met. And the second and the third time. I’m sure he will too. Bye now, places to be and people to see.”

I walked out, ignoring whatever she shouted back and daring her to race out and catch me. That could be fun, I thought as I strolled past her legally-parked motorcycle. But she’d have her hands full with those two and some alone time sounded nice after all… that. I thought about flying and decided against it, taking in the smell of salt. I crossed the street and made my way towards the beach, sticking with the scenic route instead of the sky.


	5. Kindle 5

Hammocks were an enigma to me. I had no idea what possessed someone to look at a fish gasping for breath and trapped in a net and think how comfortable that must be. Trying to climb inside one was a whole-body workout, they offered no support once you actually made it inside, and the view wasn’t even that good considering your choices were staring up at tree leaves or down at the ground.

Yet Riversea Park was filled with them, dozens hung up between palm trees. No swings, no lawn chairs, just death traps used by sailors and survivalists. It was my only gripe about the park, but it was a big enough one that I had full-fledged debates with Samantha about choosing a new hangout spot. I had lost each and now I wandered around with my phone’s flashlight to find a place to sit.

Her house was close and that made it a nice spot for her for many reasons and I didn’t have a good enough alternative to really challenge the park, my dorm was too much of a hassle for us to really come and go late at night. 

Besides, the park really was nice. Calling it an island would technically be right but felt wrong considering just how easy the bridge here is to cross. The ocean had carved out a sliver of land from the coast and ran a river around it to separate this slice from the rest of Florida. It made for two beaches and a terrible name.

I ended up with a spot closer to the oceanside beach rather than the riverside beach, preferring the view of an endless expanse of the night’s sky and ocean instead of docked boats and sawgrass. I spread the sand out with my foot, leveling it a bit before unceremoniously plopping down, setting the stolen grocer basket down beside me. 

My mask, shoes, and socks were off and my sleeves and pant legs had been rolled up. I normally hated the sand but I chose a spot close enough to the water that it behaved more like clay instead of grainy bullshit. 

I decided to go full 40-year-old hawaiian shirt father at the beach and crack open a hard soda and bury it halfway in the sand next to me before leaning back. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Samantha said from behind me. 

I leaned further back until I could see her upside-down walking towards me, a tote bag tossed over a shoulder. She had changed, blonde hair released from its prison and let down past her shoulders. I wasn’t sure when high-waisted denim shorts became the new normal but I was hardly complaining and she sported a gray tank top to go with them. 

“Don’t be,” I said before uprighting myself. I got to work on twisting open a beer for her and making a sandy cupholder on the other side of the basket. She sat her tote down, and then herself, taking my offering of beer and holding it to her lips for a few seconds until frost made its way down the neck. She took more than a couple of gulps before setting it down outside of the cupholder I dug her. “Yikes, long night?”

I moved the beer into the cupholder, the anxiety too much for me to handle.

“You have no idea. Some kids thought tonight of all nights was a perfect time to ink most of the wharfs so I had to bust that up and call some parents. Then I dealt with some frat morons prank-alerting me and asking me to strip once I showed up so that was fun. Came home to shower and get ready only to get another alert because *someone* thought going into a convenience store in full costume at the dead of night was a good idea.”

“In my defense… I was hungry.”

She laughed, the air coming out in visible huffs before dissipating. She was beautiful and not in the middle schooler seeing a girl for the first time kind of way. It was all fact. Brilliant eyes of amber betrayed her whole icy aesthetic and I still couldn’t imagine them looking any more perfect. Her teeth shone, little ice crystals collecting on them and she ran her tongue across her mouth to collect them. It was one of the little things you noticed about someone that you never stop noticing after the fact.

She grabbed a few chips from the bag before turning it around in the basket so the mouth faced me. I took a few and peeled back the wrapping on the Alexandrian, ignoring the cheesy motivational quote scrawled on the inside and taking a bite. Chocolate, peanut butter, and pretzel paired well with the salt from the chips and I chased it down with the grape soda.

“Why don’t you just cool it with the whole app alert thing? You end up with more false alarms than actual people in peril anyway.”

“I’ve thought about it, it’s mostly dummies who want to see a cape or noise complaints between neighbors,” she said, pausing to finish her beer. “But it still does plenty of good, even if it’s a hassle most of the time. It helped me catch that duo tonight, so it wasn’t too bad.”

“What was up with them by the way? They seemed smarter than the average gun-wielding bears.”

“We’ve had a string of robberies around this side of town recently. Chatty types, thrill seekers who realized robbing stores is much cheaper and easier than skydiving. The woman was suspected as a cape so the department brought me into the fold a bit but we’ll see what the brain scans and police report determine. I personally didn’t get a cape vibe from her, she just likes to think she’s the smartest person in the room.”

“You had quite the long talk to the guy.”

“Jealous?” she said, turning towards me and cocking an eyebrow.

“How could I not be,” I said. “The dude looked great, I would’ve loved to have a little chat with him. Not everyone can pull of the dumb, beefy henchman in a ski mask look but he nailed it.”

Another laugh, another smile on my part. 

“He said their name was Sunken Ships.”

“Oh wow, random criminals are giving themselves names now.”

“Tell me about it, there’s so much I have to keep up with and they’re always dumb names.”

“Whoah, hold on. Sunken Ships is a great name for them.”

“Oh god,” she said, giving an over the top eye roll and opening another beer. 

“It has that whole plundering and raiding vibe, the alliteration is kind of there without being overbearing, and the girl was pretty talkative.”

“So?”

“Loose lips sink ships, babe”

“Ew, do not call me babe. And I doubt she intended that.”

“Sometimes we don’t intend to do anything. Things just tend to work out like that.”

I took another bite of the chocolate bar and there was a nice silence. It would’ve been awkward with anyone else, but with her it just felt like a natural pause to breathe, eat, drink, and stare up at the stars. 

Her hand went on top of mine and I flinched from the cold, a chill shooting up my arm. Warmth followed as she rubbed my knuckle with her thumb. 

“I got a job offer,” she said, still looking at the sky. 

I digested that and the taste was bittersweet.

“That’s good,” I said, meaning it and doing my best to make sure she knew I did. “PRT?”

“Corporate team.”

“Smart, that’s where the real money is anyway.”

Not that she cared about money, she wasn’t busting her ass every night for the small stipend the city sent her once a month. 

“I want you to come with,” she said, squeezing my hand. I pulled it away and tried playing it off by scratching my ear, failing miserably.

“Sorry, caping isn’t really my thing.”

“It could be.”

“It’s not. Saving people, fighting bad guys, all that heavy stuff, that’s you. You’re a hero through and through, believe me, I know.”

She was facing me now, expression hard to make out in the dark. 

“So what’s the plan after you graduate? Work at my dad’s club for the rest of your life?”

“Probably just the rest of the summer. I’ll have a new line for the resume after tomorrow and will start looking for jobs teaching or at a department somewhere.”

“We had a kid in high school, Harold Mack. Brilliant dude, nailed his SATs without studying his butt off for them. The kind of guy who got C’s despite never doing any of the busy work because he was just that good on the testing. Didn’t bother writing an application essay and still got into a few schools. Went to FSU.”

“What happened to him?” I took another drink. 

“The going got tough in his junior year and he dropped out. He could’ve handled it, buckled down, really tried to see what would happen if he applied himself. But he didn’t, you remind me a lot of him.”

“I think I’m most hurt that I remind you of someone named Harold.”

“I’m serious. You’re so spooked that you won’t be able to hack it if you give it your all and then you settle for mediocrity, for grunt work scaring drunk college kids. You’re better than that, and you know you’re better than that, Adrian.”

“Thanks, but I’m not about to uproot my entire life to go live in some corporate mansion,” I said, giving her a smile and wiggling my hand back under hers in the sand.

“Oh please, you require about as much uprooting as a fern being taken from one room to another. Besides, I’m just asking that you come scope the place out. It’s just starting up so they may be a little pushy about you joining, but I could use the support considering my parents are going and will be asking a million questions.”

I put the rest of the Alexandrian in my mouth, chewing as an excuse to mull it over. Samantha was right about a lot of things, but still wrong in others. I *had* tried. I *had* applied myself and gave it my all and I failed. Going through it all again just wasn’t an option.

“Fine, but just for support. If they’re some Sciontologists trying to convert us then I reserve the right to fly as fast and as far away as possible.”

“Right granted,” she said.

“Where is it anyway? I didn’t hear about a new team starting up on PHO or anything.”

“That’s because you still have the Tampa section of the site blocked and censored.”

I groaned, the noise so guttural that I’m sure the whales out in the ocean thought I was reaching out. 

“Tampa, Sam? You couldn’t pick-“

“Samantha.”

“-any other city? Jacksonville’s been nice and quiet lovely, you could shack up with Hightail and have little fast ice babies.”

“Adrian.”

“I’d be willing to lose you to him, he’s hot as fuck. Just anything other than that old YMCA sauna ball sweat of a city”

She rolled her eyes, the whites easy to make out. 

“You know, people usually have pride for their hometown.”

“It’s hard to when that city is a sweaty taint freshly pricked by a loose heroin needle.”

“Ew,” she said with a chuckle” How many of those do you have stored, ready to gross me out?”

“More than enough. Tampa sucks. It sucks a very long, very wrinkled-“

“Okay, okay, I get it. Honestly, it wouldn’t have been my first choice. It’s also like not even 20 minutes away. St. Pete is Tampa Jr. if anything. They were the ones who reached out to me.”

Mentioning Hightail made me remember the ice cream and I popped the lid open. Yup, melted. I handed it over to Samantha. She brought it up to her face and blew, cold air spraying out of her mouth and into the container. 

“Stil,” I said, continuing while she used her power. “A startup team sounds like it’s doomed to fail, no offense. There isn’t much action there to warrant it and the Protectorate has it handled from what I remember.”

“Voltaire went hero last week,” she said between breaths. “Joined the Protectorate and everything.”

“Holy shit, no way.”

“Yeah,” she said, handing the ice cream back. The insides had imperfectly frozen over, looking more like shaved ice than ice cream. Still better than soup though and should be easy to scoop. Wait. 

Samantha handed me a spoon crafted of ice, the handle a little too long and the end a little too deep but I wasn’t really in a position to insult her handiwork when I was the one who forgot. 

“Thanks,” I said, grabbing from her and trying not to let it slip while still gripping it hard enough. It snapped in half, she sighed, supplied a thicker one, and we were in business. 

“So a heroic Voltaire, wow.”

“Yeah it definitely caught everyone off guard.”

It must’ve been recent if my villian rep professor didn’t bring it up last week. I was surprised they didn’t send him to the cage, to be honest. Voltaire had been around longer than most and a tinker with that much time was a scary prospect.

I was a little too young to remember Gray November beyond the schools closing for the month. 

“That press conference must’ve been fun. ‘Dear citizens, I know I blocked out the sun for a few weeks and wiped the courthouse off the planet. Twice. But believe me, I'm here to help’”

Samantha swallowed her ice cream and joined in, giving a mock salute and deep voiced impersonation

“Don’t worry Tampa, I’m here to protect you from dangerous threats capable of turning you all into ash at the blink of an eye and am already starting by arresting myself.”

I hated the laugh I gave, a high-pitched hiss sound. Samantha loved it though and laughed in turn, making for an infectious cycle. It lasted for a while and we passed the ice cream back and forth.

“So with Voltaire out, there’s a bit of a void in the villain scene.”

“Right, and they’re thinking more people are going to come in and try to be the new big shot. Villains from Orlando, Miami, Cuba, even Mexico. It’s all a mess and the city doesn’t want another situation like Boston.”

“A new wave of capes, on both sides of the cape fence.”

“Exactly.” 

“Congrats, Mint,” I said, turning to face her. “Jokes aside, this sounds like a really good fit for you. More responsibility and plenty of room to come into your own as a cape.”

“Thanks. It’s still not a sure thing and I have to make sure it’s legit. But yeah, I’m actually really excited. I’ll have actual teammates for once.”

“Hey, we’re kind of teammates,” I protested.

“We’re kind of a lot of things,” she said, scooting closer to me and putting the basket on the other side of her so there was nothing between us

That we were. When balancing our cape lives and our civilian lives, labels had gotten lost somewhere along the way. Girlfriend sounded far too exclusive considering we’d openly talk about who we were seeing or hooking up with from college or work. Fuck buddies seemed so disingenuous since our relationship was much more focused on the buddying than the fucking. 

But friends with benefits seemed to undersell just how massive the benefits were. It was so valuable having a fellow cape to turn to, someone who actually got it. And it was equally nice to be that confidant for her and feel needed in a way that was impossible back home. 

We were just us. 

I pulled her close and kissed her head, blonde strands sticking to my lips as I pulled away. She nuzzled closer and it was still so hard to get used to the cold when expecting body warmth. I shivered and she got close enough that I could feel her breath on my chest. 

“You know,” she started, each word penetrating my costume and chilling my torso. “I’m still pretty peeved you left me alone at the gas station.”

“We can’t be all buddy-buddy in costume, your rule, not mine.”

I felt my body acclimate to her. The added weight on my ribs became more manageable, her finger tracing figure eights on my thigh was less and less noticeable, and the cold was getting bearable. 

“I didn’t want to be buddy-buddy.”

She turned her head and I couldn’t break my gaze from the amber. Her figure eights got wider and wider with each breath she took. 

“I wanted to cuff your wrists so tight you’d never get out and make you stew on that curb until I was ready to go.”

She leaned closer, putting more of her body on top of mine, and her breath smelled of beer and strawberries. 

“I wanted you to whine and groan and beg,” she said, voice a whisper. My elbows buckled and I fell backward into the sand, her on top of me. “Then I was going to march you down to this beach and use my power on every single inch of you until you were ice-“

She kissed me, frozen lips pressing against mine and cold breath leaving her mouth and entering mine. It was like inhaling an ice cube, every part of my mouth tingling and desperately trying to restore moistures. I felt her tongue stick against my teeth as she exited. 

“Cold,” she said, punctuating the line by wiping her lips with the back of her hand and then mine. She threw a leg over my body and straddled me, her knees digging into the sand. 

“We probably shouldn’t tonight,” I said, breath more than a little hitched. Ice melted in my mouth and I swallowed. “Both of us have to be at the stadium in like six hours.”

My hands found her hips and my thumbs rubbed against the exposed skin between tank top and shorts. 

“Yeah, it wouldn’t be the best idea. You don’t have spare clothes, my dad would flip if he found out I didn’t come home tonight.”

“Yeah,” I said, working on a way to kick off my pants without bucking her off of me. 

“Yeah,” she said, running fingers through my hair and falling forward so her body was on top of mine. 


	6. Kindle 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet the rents.

I regretted literally all of it. The lights in the stadium were unbearably bright this early in the morning and I wasn’t just saying that because my head felt like a heavy watermelon that was left out in the sun for a few days and then suddenly shaken around. 

Whoever thought a 9 a.m. graduation was a good idea should be taken out back and given a 9 p.m. execution. Ugh, that didn’t even make sense. I was out of sorts and the fact that the Dean kept tapping the microphone while he sent us on our way thousands of dollars in debt had me on edge.

I missed out on breakfast and I was starting to feel the effects, the rest of the chips from last night doing a poor job at fueling me. It was a wonder I even made it across the stage for my diploma. 

Did they really not cater these things? No mozzarella sticks passed out or some water bottles under each chair? This had to be one final act of torture from the school, I thought, the Dean still droning on and on. 

I yawned and the noise was a bit louder than intended, a few heads turning my way. A snobby looking girl with a graduation cap that looked like it was dumped in a vat of glitter scoffed. 

We were all sorted by major but the parahuman studies graduating class was big enough that I had no clue who these people sitting next to me were. It was a popular choice for obvious reasons and the course load wasn’t too difficult if you didn’t pick a concentration. Most went that route, and it was hard to blame them considering it opened about the same doors.

There were only a dozen or so who went with parahuman relations though, myself included. If you decided to go into parahuman studies, it was expected that you wanted to dive deep into the actually parahuman stuff. The laser beams and flight. There were so many questions still left to answer about powers and where they came from that the more practical stuff like parahuman law or parahuman relations or parahuman management was much less appealing.

I guess growing up with powers desensitized me to it. Fireballs and stone fists were less alluring when they were knocking you around. My mind wandered to last night, Samantha using her power on me in the sand. Okay, so sometimes powers were still alluring. 

The Dean seemed to finish his spiel and there was some whooping from the crowd. I wasn’t sure how many of us were graduating but it was enough to fill the stadium floor and then some, chairs packed closely together and some of the bleachers drawn in to make more room. God damn those lights were bright.

I looked up to the ceiling and felt my head go woozy but bringing it back down would just make it woozier. Some pennants courtesy of our rather prolific college basketball team hung in the rafters, but none seemed to block the white, artificial lights. College pride had never taken hold of me and maybe it was because this was my plan c after I transferred out of my plan b. I didn’t go to tailgates or join a frat and even now sitting at graduation I didn’t feel some profound regret at not doing those things or some massive accomplishment for reaching this point. 

There weren’t any feelings other than impatience as professors and staff tried to organize us to go outside one row at a time. We stood, walking sideways out of the row because the chairs were so close together, and were ushered through a hallway and outside. 

Fucking hell, it was brighter outside than it was inside. I lifted the placeholder diploma I received and used it as a visor, getting a better look around. Everyone else looked just as lost and irritated, awkwardly waiting or searching for a good spot to meet their relatives once the floodgates were opened. The Florida sun wasn’t playing around today and this gown was unbearably hot. More students flooded out, all equally sweaty and miserable.

Or most of them. Samantha looked annoyingly refreshed as she walked out of the stadium and into hell. Our eyes locked, and she coasted over. I still wasn’t entirely sure how her power worked but I’m sure it helped with the heat. Like a built-in air conditioner running 24/7. Her mouth was the only outlet for her power, but, just like how some people ran too hot to use blankets at night, Samantha ran cool.

“Yo,” she said, practically jumping in front of me once she got here.

“Yo?” I asked cocking an eyebrow. “Someone’s pretty chipper this morning.”

“Just excited to be graduated y’know? Four years of work, over and done with. Woo!”

I winced. So loud.

“What’s up with you?”

“I dunno, I just feel really good right now,” she said, bobbing in place. She leaned into me and pushed my shoulder down so she could reach my ear. “I feel reeeealllly good.”

Her breath did more than just make me shiver. I pulled away, nose wrinkled.

“You’re drunk?”

She grinned and continued her swaying.

“It’s the number one cure for a hangover, Adrian,” she said, tapping her temple. “Can’t get hungover if you’re still drunk.”

That would explain where the hard sodas went after I woke up. I matched her smile, laughing a little.

“Who even are you right now? Did you sleep?”

“Nah. Couldn’t. Not there on the lumpy sand, at least. But you, you passed right out after the deal was sealed.”

She waggled her eyebrows at me and shimmied her shoulders.

“You’re insane.”

She shrugged. The doors to the stadium opened up and parents and friends and family members started filing out.

“Your dad is going to kill you when he walks out here and sees you plastered. He’ll know too, it’s his thing,” I said.

“Dad’s not coming, worked too late last night and mom’s got the party this afternoon so she’s cleaning the whole house.”

“Wait, so no one came for your graduation?”

“Monica did. It’s no big deal, getting drunk for graduation is like a tradition.”

Yet another classic college moment I was apparently missing out on.

“Samantha, you’re running on no sleep, six beers, half a pint of ice cream-”

“Don’t pretend like you didn’t eat a lion’s share of that,” she rebutted.

“-and however many other drinks you ended up having. How did you even get here?”

“I already told you, Monica came to graduation.”

I started to look for my parents, scanning the crowds as people embraced and took photos. The stairwell down from the stadium clogged and there was no staff to break up a dumb family trying to take a group photo. 

“Nervous?” she asked, getting close to let some people by. I scoffed. “Dude, you’re sweating bullets.”

“Everyone is, it’s a thousand degrees outside.”

“Uh-huh sure. Well, I’m excited. I miss your mom and your dad is…well your dad. Is Maddie coming?”

I shook my head, still surveying the crowded stairwell. The selfie family had dispersed, but the throngs of people still took their time looking around. 

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think you’re meeting them that drunk.”

“Didn’t take you for such a prude, wow. You sure weren’t one last night when I was knuckle deep in-“

“Adrian!” 

I jumped, 20 years worth of forged report cards, groundings, and forgetting to take the chicken out for dinner all flashing back to me. 

My dad stood beside the top of the steps, hands on the railing and eyes locked on mine. It was weird seeing him in a button-up and there was no doubt that my mom had picked it out for him considering just how light that red was. It had a print I couldn’t make out from this far away. He smiled and pointed at me. Did he expect me to go *up* the stairwell? 

“Sure you don’t want some company to take the edge off?” Samantha said. 

“Fine, but only until Monica finds you. They don’t know we’re doing whatever it is we’re doing and I don’t want the third degree about dating and condoms from them after you leave.”

“They totally know we’re banging by the way. They’re not idiots.”

I rolled my eyes and worked my way through the crowd, Samantha’s hand on my shoulder to help her wade through. She didn’t stumble and her speech didn’t slur once as she relayed the events of her morning to me. Meanwhile, I still had that sloshy watermelon feeling in my head and each step and bump into someone threatened to make it crack open and spill out. 

My dad looked comfortable, alone at the railing and casually pointing at me. A few people turned his way after he shouted my name, probably thinking he was staff and I wouldn’t be shocked if he started orchestrating people into lines. But his attention was on me and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a good feeling. 

Just when we reached some open space, my mom collided with us and wrapped me up into a tight hug.

“Congratulations!”

I almost fell over, my mom not letting up as she squeezed me so hard my back cracked. She pulled away, but kept her arms on my shoulders, rubbing them. 

“Just look at you,” she said, looking down at me. “All grown up!”

She hugged me again and I looked at Samantha for a rescue, only to see her staring up at the clouds with a dopey expression. My dad saved me.

“Let him breathe, Lin,” he said, rubbing her back. “You’re smothering him.”

I gave an exaggerated breath as she untangled. Tears were already in the corners of her eyes. She was taller than I was, her wedge sandals far from necessary. Her sundress matched Dad’s shirt, which had small white roses on it now that I got a better look at it. Their outfits were probably better suited for Easter Sunday, but it was hot and it was spring and they looked nice.

“Samantha, it’s so nice to see you again,” my mom said, giving her a brief hug.

Samantha, as practiced as ever, waited until my mom was far enough away before responding.

“You too, I love the new hair,” she said. “Mr. Walker, always a pleasure.”

“Likewise, has work been treating you well?”

I rolled my eyes a bit at the smirk the two of them shared. Apparently the only secret being kept right now was the alcohol on her breath.

“Things are actually going really well, I’d actually love to pick your brain about it if you have time,” she said. “Mom’s throwing a party, unless of course you all have plans after this.”

I appreciated the lay-up she provided my dad, refocusing him on what he and my mom drove out here for. Or at least I hoped they drove. He put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing a bit.

“We’d love to, but Adrian’s taking us to Trips downtown for some brunch and we might find ourselves in a bit of a time crunch if we try rushing anything.”

I got a nice hit of serotonin from him remembering the name of the restaurant I pitched to them earlier this week. 

“Oh my gosh, you’ll love it,” Samantha said. “I can email you about work, it’s no rush, seriously.” Her eagerness kind of betrayed that sentiment and I was sure she wanted nothing more than to talk my dad’s ear off about what she was getting herself into. “You three have fun, I’m going to track down Monica and probably swing by the university for some pictures. Tell Maddie I said hey.”  
The word was like a starting pistol for my mom, producing her phone from her handbag at record speed.

“Oh! Before you go, can I get a quick photo of you two together?”

That quick photo turned into several as my moved us around for good lighting and better backgrounds. Once said and done, Samantha gave me a hug and took off to leave the three of us alone in the growing crowd.

“Where’d you guys park?”

“The garage up ahead,” Dad said. We lasted about a minute in that direction before my dad couldn’t help himself. “So, you and Samantha, huh?”

I groaned, hamming it up a bit.

“She’s very sweet,” Mom chimed in. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed, she’s great. We’re just not like that. I’m not blind to the parallels.”

They shared smiles and held hands at that, a united front walking down the sidewalk and needling at my love life.

“Do you want it to be like that?” Mom asked.

“The only thing I want right now are chicken and waffles. And maybe a mimosa.”

“Does she want it to be like that?” Dad asked, continuing the barrage.

“I don’t know, maybe? We don’t talk about it and things are fine. We’re just going through the motions.”

“Hmm.” they both went.

“Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Mom started. “Just…going through the motions is nice, and you’re good at that.”

“Thanks?”

“You know what I mean,” she continued. “You excel in the status quo, I just don’t want you to miss out on something special.”

I just nodded and continued down the sidewalk, feeling a bit more silly in the cap and gown with each further step from the graduation. It was tough getting advice from practical soul mates who knew what they wanted when they were in my shoes. Well, technically, Mom was the one in my shoes rather than Dad. Although the similarities between Dad and Samantha were few and far between. I got some minor relief realizing I didn’t have some complex, although that feeling was snuffed out by my growing headache from both the night before and hunger.

They had every opportunity to press further on it, but thankfully didn’t. The chat lightened up as we discussed their drive across the bridge, what to eat when we got to Trips, and why Maddie couldn’t make it. Same stuff, different day. Conversation only really halted when we got to the front of the garage outside. The cars didn’t seem to have any issue getting out thanks to some extra staff directing people, but we could make out the crowded stairs where people were practically standing still. 

“Jay, let’s go up,” Mom said, already stepping closer to Dad.

“Can we not? I don’t have any reservations or anything, there’s no rush.”

“He’s right, Lin,” Dad said. “Besides, it would be such a spectacle.”

“We parked on the roof and the car has A/C,” she replied. Dad looked back at me, conceding her admittedly good points. God, it was hot. I looked up again at the sweaty mass on the stairs.

“Okay, but can it be quick, I’d rather not have this be a huge deal.”

Mom was already flourishing black, stick-on face coverings from her bag. She put one on and handed another over to me. The logo had changed since I last saw it, a red fist now stylized into the torch’s flames. A gray background of a sprawling castle covered the rest of the mask, helping the torch’s colors pop a bit more. There was a joke to be made about hiding under something designed to stand out, but it wasn’t like anyone’s attention would be on them anyway. I double-checked that there was a tiny “A” printed on the face-side before putting it on, the fit perfect.

“Huddle up,” Dad said, Mom pressing his mask on. They really did look adorable in their matching outfits. Both of their faces were covered but I could still see the hints of smiles underneath as we all grouped up into a hug.

It had been a while since I felt the effects of Dad’s power up close and personal. My knees buckled as the ground shook underneath us, our hug keeping me steady. Slowly, four walls of granite rose from the ground around us. They kept rising well above us towards the sky, windows carving themselves into the structure. A floor formed and took us up, the structure shifting under us. It would fill out more floors and ladders to reach the top, even though they weren’t needed. A window stretched in front of us, allowing us a view outside to see how high up we were already. I only got a glimpse of people on the stairwell as we rose past them, phones out and gawking. Mom had already let go of us, running her hand over the rough stone walls as we climbed. I held tight and had no shame in doing so.

We lurched to a stop and the window yawned further apart until it was a doorway for them, level with the roof. Mom left first and then shuffled me out before we both helped Dad. There was a bit of a ledge that was dangerous considering all three of us were perched on it. A crowd was at the base of the tower, their ooh’s and ah’s audible from up here.

“Lin, the car,” Dad said, handing off his keys before addressing the crowd. “Clear out!”

They listened, the ones who didn’t know what was going following suit of the many who did. He sent the tower back down to the ground, a gasp from the crowd punctuating its descent. All that was left was a square patch of scorched earth outside the parking garage and a group of people who were cheering for some reason. Excited to see powers in action, I guessed, even though those powers were being used as an erected middle finger to those who couldn’t leapfrog the long line. 

I jumped down, landing a bit awkwardly. Mom was already well ahead. Anyone already up here didn’t have too much of an idea on what was going on as she fast-walked to the car. I waited for Dad and he turned around only to turn back to address the crowd.

“Go Bobcats!”

There was more cheering and finally he jumped down to me with ease. I cocked an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you the one concerned about a spectacle?”

He smiled and it warmed me, making the pain in my knees a little less bothersome. He wrapped an arm around me as we made our way to Mom, who was standing outside the car when the door open, waiting for the A/C to run a bit before getting in.

“All that money we paid and they didn’t teach you about free PR?” he said. “Besides, it’s a special day.”


End file.
